


and they were roommates

by determination



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, apparently i'm only capable of writing romcom garbage, brief gaius/livia (yuck), brief mention of wedge/tataru, mostly nero-centric but some parts are cid-centric, posted in chapters for better readability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 19,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24777931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/determination/pseuds/determination
Summary: Nero inadvertently sets something in motion when he punches Gaius Baelsar in the face. And that something starts with moving in with Cid Garlond.
Relationships: Cid nan Garlond/Nero tol Scaeva
Comments: 22
Kudos: 51





	1. the punch

**Author's Note:**

> finally breaking my long hiatus with... new fandom fic!!! lmao... it took a long time to write something i felt comfortable posting because i spent a while dabbling in npc/wol fic (which was not really my forte) so realizing that i like cidnero so much was a blessing in the writing inspiration department lol  
> this whole idea spawned from replaying post-stormblood pre-shadowbringers content and thinking about how much i wanted someone to punch gaius. and if they aren't going to let cid do it, then naturally it should fall to his boyfriend lol the rest of the plot came to me in pieces when i couldn't stop thinking about the idea of doing a modern au.  
> a couple things before going into this, i made gaius younger. he's probably around 40 here, which doesn't really make the relationship with livia any better, but the point is that they're both bad people in a bad relationship. :( as for gaius' company and cid's company.... don't ask me what they do lol i don't even know lolol  
> (also there's some suggestive bits, just a few lines toward the end, but nothing nsfw)
> 
> (distinct feeling that i had other info i was going to put here) uhh anyway i hope you enjoy! kudos and comments are always appreciated, but as always please no criticism or critiques!

Nero is on his way back to his apartment when his phone vibrates. He'd been standing on the subway, phone already in his hand, mindlessly skipping songs on his playlist (what's the point of the damn playlist if he just skips until he gets to the song he wants to hear, anyway). (Gods he misses his bike. He needs to get off his ass and actually repair the damn thing.) 

The message, unsurprisingly, comes from his roommate, and the first couple words from the preview, before he swipes to view the whole message, make him want to groan.

**Livia**

**Find somewhere else to stay tonight. My boyfriend will be spending the night and I don't want your unbearable ass ruining it.**

Nero resists the urge to roll his eyes. Ah, yes. Once again being kicked out of his own apartment that he pays rent for. It's useless arguing with her, though. He'd already wasted too much energy futilely suggesting she move in with her boyfriend (the man owns a company, his own house is probably huge, why does she need to keep bringing him to Nero's tiny apartment, etc.).

**Nero**

**Can I at least come back and grab a few things or will seeing my face cause him to spontaneously combust**

**Livia**

**Thin fucking ice, Scaeva. Make it quick.**

Nero's brow twitches, and he feels a headache coming on. Gods, give him strength to go in and out without accidentally starting something. That's all he asks.

When the subway reaches his stop, he hastens out and walks a brisk pace toward the complex. The sun had already begun to set when he'd left work, and it's now well below the horizon, the orange sky faded to navy blue. Popping his earbuds out of his ears, he pockets them and takes in the quieting sounds of the evening. Less traffic, less people. Just Nero and the night. 

"You're a zen king, Scaeva," he mutters to himself, taking a deep breath as he enters the complex. "Zen king. Nothing can get under your skin."

To his dismay, Junius' boyfriend is already there when Nero lets himself in. The two of them appear to have just finished eating dinner, Junius in the kitchen doing dishes while Baelsar sits at the table. Nero instantly stiffens when Baelsar looks at him, eyes lighting up with recognition. 

"Scaeva, it's been a while," he greets, genial in the way a CEO is when he unexpectedly finds himself speaking to a subordinate. 

"It has," Nero grits out. Zen. He won't let this bother him. He bows his head and makes a beeline for his room. _Just get what you need for an overnight stay somewhere and get out of here._

"You're well, I take it?" Despite Nero's (what should have been obvious) attempt to avoid interacting, Baelsar follows him, hovering in the doorway like an oversized housefly.

"Yes, peachy," Nero gives him a flat smile. _Gods, please, take the hint._ If Junius catches Nero talking with Baelsar, she's liable to flay him. And Nero would very much like to keep every bit of his (handsome) body intact. 

"Are you still working with Cid Garlond, then?" 

Nero nearly tears the shirt he'd been stuffing into his bag. Of course Baelsar would mention him. It's not unexpected, but it still makes Nero's chest feel tight, a surge of anger flaring under his skin. _No, stay calm, Scaeva. Don't let it get to you._

"I only ask because I've heard such good things about his company in the news lately," Baelsar goes on when Nero stays silent. "Seems like it must be a good fit for you. Though, I must admit, I do sorely miss his presence on my team."

Deep inhale, slow exhale. Deep inhale, slow exhale. "I can't say the same, and I don't think he would, either." That Baelsar can say such things. That he can truly have no conscience after the amount of stress and abuse he put Garlond through...

"Oh? That's a pity." Baelsar chuckles. "I had half a mind to ask if you'd consider coming back. Or maybe I could convince you to pass my question on to Cid? I cannot help but think his talents could be put to better use."

The bastard still doesn't acknowledge the state Garlond had been in when he'd left Baelsar's toxic excuse for employment. He still does not respect Garlond as a person, only as a tool. He still speaks like he's somehow entitled to Garlond's work, despite the prosperous nature of Garlond's current solo endeavors. 

Nero feels his patience teetering on the brink. He needs to get out of here. Or he might actually do something he'll regret. Or maybe not regret, considering the level of rage simmering in his blood.

"With all due respect," Nero bites out, closing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, "Garlond really shouldn't have to suffer your existence anymore." _And neither should I_ , he thinks. "So, no, I won't be asking him to run back to your side. You've got enough lap dogs as it is, you don't need him."

Despite Nero's inflammatory remarks, Baelsar laughs. "Apologies. I forgot he was a touchy subject for you." 

Nero bristles at that. He really thinks he knows everything, huh. Just because Nero had something of a rivalry with Garlond back in the day, somehow that means his being mentioned is the only reason Nero would lash out. Not like Baelsar himself is quite possibly the worst person Nero has ever had the misfortune of knowing (and he'll never understand what Junius sees in him).

"Pleasure seeing you," Nero says through gritted teeth. He pushes past Baelsar back out of his room, heading straight for the door.

"At least give him my regards, will you?" Like some sort of voidsent, Baelsar keeps following him. "Tell him I'm proud of him."

Strange. He's not sure why those words are the ones that break his resolve. That cause him to snap. Maybe it's the fact that even after all this time, Baelsar still sees himself as responsible for Garlond's success. Still views Garlond as his little pet project, to use and abuse, to taunt regardless of the distance and barriers put up to keep him out.

All Nero knows is that his knuckles sting something fierce when they connect with Baelsar's jaw.


	2. a place to stay

Cid is almost too lost in thought to notice his phone buzzing on the desk next to him (and apparently too preoccupied to hear the doorbell). He's scribbling notes as fast as he can, letting the idea take shape in his mind. It's not that revolutionary of a design by his standards, but he likes it enough to work on it, knows he'll be able to improve it after he's had time to brainstorm.

It's maybe the third call that finally catches his attention, and he realizes he'd been neglecting the busy device. Without checking caller ID, he hastens to answer.

Before he can say anything though, the caller speaks. "About time. Hurry up and let me in, you daft workaholic. I've been ringing the doorbell for ages."

Cid's brows furrow. "Nero-" He starts, but the other line goes dead, and he's left with no option but to sigh and get up from his work desk. It can wait, he supposes. The design is still fresh on his mind, and he doubts he'll forget it in the meantime.

His confusion at Nero's sudden appearance on his doorstep is heightened when Nero steps inside, clutching his bag and nursing a nasty bruise on his cheek. 

"What in the seven hells happened to you?" Cid asks, more than a little bewildered. Fighting the urge to reach out and gently touch the injury to gauge its severity, he ushers Nero further inside, leading the way to the kitchen where he retrieves an ice pack and proffers it toward Nero.

"Got kicked out," the blond sighs, holding the ice pack to his bruise and wincing.

"Again?" One of Cid's brows quirks up in bemusement.

Nero averts his gaze. "... Most likely permanently this time." 

Cid blinks at him, baffled. He knew Livia was strict, but... "What happened, exactly?"

"........ I slugged her boyfriend." A sheepish grin. He says it so matter-of-factly that Cid almost overlooks it, but knowing the identity of said boyfriend has his eyes going round, and his jaw drops.

"You punched  _ Gaius _ ??" He watches Nero in astonishment as the blond shifts from foot to foot, appearing rather uncomfortable to be put on the spot. "What did he do??" 

Nero bites his lip, evidently reluctant to respond. He sighs, shaking his head. "Nothing of consequence. He was just his usual, deplorable self and I guess my patience was paper thin. Junius retaliated, as you can well see."

Coupled with hesitation, his answer does little to convince Cid of its full truth. Something further definitely happened, but, for whatever reason, Nero doesn't want to tell him. He supposes he should just accept it. After all, talking about Gaius of all people is not how he wants to spend his evening.

"You really think Livia is serious this time?" he asks instead. 

Nero laughs bitterly. "Oh, deadly so. I have one week to find new lodgings or she threatened to take all of my belongings and toss them in the dumpster."

"A week. How generous of her." Cid rolls his eyes. "What's your plan?"

"Said she'd kill me if I show my face back at the apartment while she’s there, so... I suppose I'll have to make a day trip in the next couple days." A wry smile. 

Cid purses his lips, arms folding across his chest. "... Do you have a place to stay in the meantime?"

At that, Nero grows sheepish again. "... Not yet. I... figured I'd start looking tomorrow."

Maybe it's pity, maybe it's something else, Cid doesn't know. He does know that he doesn't like seeing Nero like this. Vulnerable. Uncertain. It makes him want to... to help. How odd. "... Why don't you stay here? At least for now."

Nero gives him a scrutinizing look. "Are you sure you want to make that offer, Garlond? This is  _ me _ we're talking about. If you already find me insufferable to work with, I can only imagine how you'd tolerate  _ living _ with me."

Cid's face feels hot as he gives the idea a little further thought. "Well, yeah, you are a bit of a... handful in the workplace." Their frequent arguments come to mind. "... But it's not... That is to say..." Strange. Cid doesn't usually struggle with words like this. He lets out a disgruntled sigh. "It's not necessarily coming from a bad place, do you know what I mean?"

Nero raises a brow at him. "Elaborate."

Cid sighs again. "Just... Alright, you're a self-centered prick with an ego too big - or dare I say not big enough, considering your abnormal height and unnaturally large head." His brows furrow when Nero snorts. "But you're genuinely one of the most intelligent people I know, and I..." Hesitantly, he gives Nero a small, conceding smile. "I do enjoy working with you. Even when you're being an ass. It tends to bring out the best in me, I suppose."

Nero is silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. It makes Cid's heart pound uncomfortably in his chest, even more so when a soft smile spreads across Nero's face. So soft, it actually catches Cid completely off guard, and he feels his face grow warmer than before.

"Aw, you complimented me," Nero says. It's evidently meant to be a quip, but his tone is oddly affectionate in a way Cid isn't used to. It makes his chest do something weird, fluttering and twisting and making him feel a bit woozy. 

"D-don't get used to it," Cid retorts, though it lacks any real bite. He takes a slow, steadying breath, averts his gaze, then tries his offer again. "So? Unless you're really averse to the idea, you're welcome to stay here. At least until you find somewhere else."

Nero lowers the ice pack, tapping a foot on the floor. "What's rent look like?"

"Rent?" Cid makes a face. He knows for a fact that he'd been making more than Nero for quite some time, and even with their similar salaries at the moment, he'd feel like a jerk to ask for any payment. "None, provided you actually plan to search for a new apartment in the coming days."

"Tempting as that is, I'm not in the habit of taking charity, Garlond." Nero narrows his eyes, and Cid shrinks back a little, biting his lip.

"If it really bothers you, I could just take it out of your paycheck."

Now Nero laughs, signature grin returning to his face. "I said I wasn't in the habit, Garlond, not that I wouldn't accept it." When Cid gives him a put out look, he laughs again. "Rest assured, I'll start apartment hunting first chance I get."


	3. of rich people's houses

Nero almost can't believe this is happening. Almost. He's not a religious man, not really, but he can't help thinking that some sort of divine entity had decided that he can have a little treat after his bad luck earlier that day. 

At least, until Garlond takes him to the "guest room."

Nero blinks at the vacant room. The only pieces of furniture are a lamp in one corner and a dresser next to it. And yet this somehow doesn't surprise him.

"Huh," Garlond mutters, seemingly more perplexed by the room than Nero. "Could've swore I did more with the place."

"This isn't a guest room," Nero turns to him, snickering. "In fact, I'm not sure this even qualifies as a room. At all."

Garlond's face flushes, and he shoots Nero a non threatening glare. "I never had a reason to do anything with it! It's not like I ever had anyone staying here before now!"

Nero shrugs. "Rich people. All that money and they can't even bother to decorate their whole house." Garlond looks like he's already feeling the sprouting seeds of regret. Oops, he should probably tone down the teasing if he intends to actually stay here for any amount of time. "Do you have a futon, at least?"

"I... genuinely don't know," Garlond sighs. "I want to say yes, but considering I don't know where it would be if I did have one, I'm starting to think maybe I'm not cut out to be a landlord." Nero snorts, then looks away casually when Garlond frowns at him. "Would you be against crashing on the couch?"

"At this point I'd take anything," Nero shrugs. His cheek has begun to throb again, and he's wishing he hadn't returned that ice pack so soon. Junius really didn't have to hit him that hard, it's not like he'd done anything to deserve it (Baelsar, on the other hand, deserves at least a half dozen further punches all with increasing ferocity).

They retrace their steps back downstairs to the living room. But, when Nero sees the couch, he finds himself putting his head in his hands. "Was this, perchance, made for lalafells?"

"It's not that small!" Garlond snaps. But, the longer he looks at it, the more frustrated he appears. His expression almost makes Nero laugh again, but he manages to stop himself this time. "Alright, for someone of your stature, I admit it would be... a bit uncomfortable." With a sigh, he folds his arms across his chest. "I suppose I should look into getting a bed for that guest room, shouldn't I. Well, for tonight, you can have my bed. I'll take the couch."

Nero's eyes widen. "Whoa there, Garlond, I'm not taking your bed. What kind of poor tenant does that on the first night?"

Garlond gives him a look. "I don't know. You always struck me as the type who'd jump at the chance to sleep in a king size bed."

"Some of us have manners, Garlond." But that does stop Nero, and he reconsiders the notion with renewed enthusiasm. "... Beg your pardon, did you say king size?"

Now it's Garlond's turn to laugh, a charming, hearty sound. It makes Nero's face feel the slightest bit warm. "That's more along the lines of what I expected."

Leading the way back upstairs, Garlond shows Nero to (presumably) his bedroom. Despite himself, Nero's heart decides it's an excellent time to start racing. It's strangely intimate, isn't it? To be here in Garlond's house, specifically in his bedroom? Or is he just overreacting? It's hard to tell. 

The room itself is modestly decorated (at least more effort was put into it than the guest room). A work desk sits in one corner, next to which a filing cabinet stands. The setup is somewhat messy, papers scattered here and there, with a few haphazardly crafted trinkets sitting upon the desk. The whole thing screams Garlond, that Nero can't help smiling.

The bed is on the opposite wall, and, to Nero's delight, it is exceptionally big. Like the beds you try out at the luxury department store that are positively heavenly but cost several (generous) figures outside your pay grade. Without waiting for an invitation, Nero drops his bag by the side and collapses onto the bed, ignoring the protesting throb in his cheek as his face hits the blankets. "How do you ever get yourself to leave in the morning," he mutters, voice muffled by the fabric.

Garlond laughs again, that same genuinely amused laugh that makes Nero's chest do funny things. "By waking up early enough for ample time to convince myself that I can't neglect my job."

_ Sounds fake _ , Nero thinks,  _ but whatever _ . He's definitely not passing on the opportunity to sleep in a bed this glorious. He sits up abruptly when he hears Garlond crossing the room. His brows knit as Garlond picks up some of the papers. "What are you doing."

Garlond glances back at him. "Thought it'd be best to relocate my work. If I'm giving you my room for the night, I wouldn't want to disturb you-"

Nero blinks at him indignantly and waves a hand, cutting him off. "I already said I'm not taking your room. And besides, this thing's huge, Garlond, I'm sure we'd both fit."

"What?" Garlond's eyes are round as the papers slip out of his hands and flutter back onto the desk. It takes Nero's mind a couple more seconds to catch up, and he realizes what he'd suggested. 

"What?" he echoes dumbly. 

Garlond lets out a long exhale, then purses his lips. "... I suppose it's not...  _ entirely _ out of the question."

Nero's eyes bug out, and he scrambles to get up. "What??" he repeats, a bit more frantic this time. Is Garlond actually entertaining the idea of sharing the bed??

"I mean, obviously it'd be split down the middle and you'd have to swear not to move even a toe outside of your half. And it'd just be for tonight, of course."

Mind racing to keep up with this development, Nero glances between the bed and Garlond. "Obviously." He's relieved his voice sounds a great deal more calm than he feels. "As for your work, don't let me interrupt you. I'm not going to sleep yet anyway." He almost wants to, to avoid whatever feelings are swirling around in his chest. He doubts he'd fall asleep if he tried, though. 

"In that case..." Garlond shrugs, then rearranges the papers on his desk and sits down. Nero stands there awkwardly for a moment. Shuffling his feet, he looks from his bag to the bed, then to the door. Garlond lets out an amused chortle and, without looking up, points to the left. "Bathroom's down the hall if you want to change and get cleaned up."

Nero snickers. "Don't mind if I do. What an opportunity, to experience the luxury of a rich person's bathroom."

"It's just a bathroom, you weirdo" Cid says, and Nero can practically hear him rolling his eyes. 

"That's for you to know, and me to find out."

To his credit, it is a remarkably ordinary bathroom. Nero is a tad disappointed.


	4. morning warmth

Nero drifts to consciousness with the usual vague discomfort that comes with accidentally falling asleep before you meant to. His mind is foggy, head aching slightly, and his body feels somewhat heavy. His dissatisfaction at not having had the chance to fully appreciate the delectable bed, though, is outweighed by the offputting realization that the heavy feeling is, in fact, not him, but rather on top of him.

His heart skips a beat. Blinking his eyes open, the dark room starts to come into focus. He tilts his head. Garlond's torso is half draped over him, Garlond's head resting on his chest. Nero blinks at the slumbering man. He closes his eyes. He reopens them and stares for a long time.

Oh gods. Oh no. No no  _ no _ . This isn't fair. This isn't... but what is it? The longer he stares, the more attuned he grows to the fact that Garlond is quite warm, and he can feel each shift of his body as he breathes in and out, peacefully slumbering away. 

They'd sworn to stay on their half of the bed. That was the deal. Should Nero move him? The idea of waking Garlond in this precarious position has his heart beating erratically. 

Gods, and he'd tried so hard to forget, too. To push down these feelings and pretend he only saw Garlond as a rival. Nevermind that Garlond had always been easy on the eyes, and his good-natured, kind-hearted personality had always stuck out to Nero in the competitive, toxic environment where they first met. Garlond was the one everyone admired. And despite Nero's anger at being cast into the shadows of Garlond's grand reputation, he unfortunately still fell into that  _ everyone _ category.

Garlond, whose attention he'd strove so hard and long to earn. Even if it meant Garlond disliked him, or didn't want to see him; if Garlond at least knew of him... 

Garlond who'd extended that hand of salvation when Nero could no longer stand Baelsar's employment, who welcomed him into a new job without so much as a question. Garlond who'd always deserved better.

Nero wants to reach up and smack himself. He can't be having these thoughts. He can't really be entertaining the notion of reviving his stupid, one-sided crush on-

Garlond stirs. Nero feels like his heart might stop. He can't deal with this right now. He squeezes his eyes shut and slows his breathing, prays to whatever god might be listening to give him a convincing appearance of still being asleep. 

With a slow, deliberate stretch, Garlond moves an arm behind his pillow. That's when Nero realizes an alarm had been going off on Garlond's phone - somewhat relieving, he supposes, when the alternative was that he'd accidentally woke Garlond with his noisy, frantic heart rate. (Embarrassing, though, that he'd been so absorbed in his own head that he hadn't even recognized the obnoxious tone from the device.) 

The alarm goes silent and that's when Garlond seems to process the manner he'd been resting. Quiet. Then, a very soft, "Ah." Nero nearly forgets to breathe. What's that supposed to mean?? 

He's still trying to figure out whether he should move when, to his astonishment, Garlond settles back down, still using him as a pillow. He even seems to get more comfortable, pressing the rest of his body against Nero's.  _ Hells, he's so warm _ . It takes all of Nero's willpower to stay still, and he's genuinely surprised his wild heartbeat had escaped Garlond's notice. To be fair, Garlond is... more than a little oblivious, so maybe it's not all that hard to believe. 

Still. Nero lies there, unmoving, feels Garlond's even breathing, and wonders what god he'd angered to deserve such torture. It's  _ agonizing _ . And yet, the more he focuses on it, the more he doesn't want it to end. The intimacy, the warmth. 

He flatters himself by thinking he's probably the first person to experience this with Garlond. 

He's not sure how much time has passed between the first alarm and the second. And yet Garlond stays, turning off the noise and once again adjusting to be closer. 

Nero wonders if he's actually, truly experiencing this right now. Maybe Junius had hit him harder than he thought, and he's actually still passed out on his apartment floor, simply dreaming of this strange (yet blissful) circumstance.

He's torn between relief and disappointment when Garlond actually gets up the third time his phone goes off, sitting and grabbing the device to silence it. The bed shifts as Garlond moves to the edge and stretches, then leaves the thing entirely. Nero lets out a slow, exhausted exhale. At least he doesn't have to pretend to be asleep now. 

He practically jumps out of his skin when Garlond's soft voice comes from beside him. "Time to get up, Nero. Any later and we'll run behind."

"I-I'm up, I'm up," Nero blurts, flying to sit up. Only, his head spins in protest at the sudden movement, and he can't help flopping back down. Garlond laughs sleepily, and Nero is thankful for the darkness of the room because in his overstimulated state, that laugh is making his face feel very hot. "... Do I have time for a shower?" He asks after attempting to compose himself.

Garlond makes an unreadable expression. "I suppose, if you make it quick." He pauses, seems to think something over, then adds, "You fine with scrambled eggs?"

Nero's eyes widen. "Are you offering to make me breakfast, Garlond? And here I was thinking you had no idea how to cook."

"I can make basic meals." Garlond gives him a half-hearted glare. "If you're going to be an arse about it, you're welcome to starve."

"Offer for food accepted and appreciated," Nero hastily interjects with (what he hopes is) a pacifying smile. "I'll be right down!" He doesn't miss Garlond's roll of his eyes as he grabs his clothes and makes a quick escape from the bedroom.

It's only when he's in the bathroom, shower on and steam just slightly fogging up the corners of the mirror, that he stops and holds a hand over his heart, letting out a long, low exhale. Hells, what a morning.

He looks into the mirror and curses under his breath when he sees his face is still somewhat flushed. His bruise has ripened overnight, as well, but he's at least relieved the pain had lessened to a dull ache rather than a throb. Gently prodding it with a finger, he winces, then smoothes a hand over his cheek. He can't help snorting. He looks like a fucking  _ delinquent _ . Maybe he’ll treat himself and get one of those expensive medicine kits that are supposed to help injuries heal in just a week. That’s what rich people do, isn’t it? He snorts again.

Oh well. Nothing a bit of makeup can't conceal for now. 

He does his best not to think about the fact that he's in Garlond's shower whilst he washes, lest his mind wander to inappropriate places. 


	5. breakfast and questions

Cid's eyes widen when Nero comes down the stairs looking a great deal more fresh and proper. He has a certain glow about him that captures Cid's attention, and his face grows warm when he remembers how intimately they'd been resting just twenty minutes earlier.

He doesn't know why he didn't immediately distance himself the second he woke up. It just felt so...  _ pleasant _ . The warmth of another body. Having another person in the bed with him. He can't explain it, but the feeling was enticing enough for him to snooze all of his alarms, and forgo his usual morning shower. Thankfully his appearance hadn't suffered too much of a blow, and he'd had little trouble making himself presentable in the downstairs bathroom before proceeding to prepare breakfast. 

"You sure do heal fast," Cid mutters when he realizes he had yet to say anything.

Nero rolls his eyes. "Come now, Garlond, surely you can recognize a good  _ cover up _ ." He snickers and shrugs when Cid frowns at him. "What can I say? Makeup does wonders." 

"How does it feel today?" Cid inquires. He watches as Nero takes the seat across from him.

"Sore," Nero shrugs again, "but it's just a bruise. I'll survive." He falls silent as he examines the plate of eggs Garlond had set on the table for him. "Thanks for the grub. Is there a drink to go with it or is that part self-serve?"

Cid gives him a look. "I made coffee," he sighs, gesturing toward the kitchen. "Feel free to pour yourself a cup and then fuck off."

"Gladly," Nero smiles, getting up. "Tell me you at least have creamer." 

Resisting the urge to sigh again, Cid nods. "Fridge." 

"Much thanks." 

Nero abandons the table, and Cid takes a deep breath, running a hand over his face. He liked Nero better when he was asleep. But he's going to pretend he didn't just use the word  _ like _ in the same sentence as Nero's name.

When they're finished eating, Cid works up the nerve to ask something that had been on his mind. "Your motorbike is still out of commission, I take it?"

Nero gives him the look of a parent mourning a lost child. "Yes, and thank you so much for reminding me." He sighs and shakes his head. "I haven't had any time to work on repairs since that asshole almost totalled it last month."

"Remind me what happened again," Cid says, brows furrowing. "You weren't in an accident, but...?"

"It was a hit and run. I left him parked out front of my old apartment complex. Assuming no one in their right mind would floor it in a residential area, whoever steamrolled him was driving drunk, and the Red Baron simply had the misfortune of being parked in the spot they wanted."

"What a mess," Cid gives him a wry smile. "So you'll be needing a ride to work, then."

His words seem to catch Nero off guard, his eyes widening a bit. "I've been taking the subway," he frowns. 

"Yeah, and you've been routinely late to the office everyday, which I elected to ignore on account of your pristine productivity. But..." Cid shrugs and does his best to be nonchalant. "There's no point in me not driving you. We're going to the same place, after all."

To his amazement, Nero acquiesces almost immediately, mimicking Cid's shrug. "Works for me. Though I do plan to fix my bike later, so this won't end up a recurring thing." Cid had expected him to protest, or at the very least to put up more of a fight. The easygoing acceptance feels somewhat uncharacteristic, but he supposes that doesn't matter. He's just thankful for the chance to be of assistance. 

"But I get to pick road tunes," Nero says, sneering. 

Cid frowns. Actually, he takes it back. "My car, my music."

Nero hijacks the adaptor anyway and subjects Cid to 80s pop hits. (If asked, Cid would deny humming along to any of them.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know why i picture nero listening to 80s pop but here we are


	6. secrets

"G'morning, Mr. Garlond," Jessie greets cheerfully as they enter the office. At first, she appears to take no notice of Nero, but then she does a double take and stares at him, incredulous. "Scaeva?! You're on time...?"

Nero gives her an affronted look. "What, a man can't be punctual without raising eyebrows now?"

"You've arrived late everyday for the past two weeks," Jessie rolls her eyes. She then furrows her brows and glances between the two of them. "... Why'd you arrive at the same time, anyway? That's never happened before."

_ Huh _ , Nero frowns, she's more astute than he would have given her credit for. He almost opens his mouth to say Garlond gave him a ride, but that's when he catches sight of Garlond's expression. He looks vaguely mortified, eyes slightly widened, face pale. He shakes his head at Nero almost imperceptibly, a signal if ever Nero's seen one. 

It's not like he can blame Garlond for not wanting anyone to know. Still, he can't ignore the slightest twinge of disappointment when he shrugs at Jessie and says, "Put your tinfoil hat away. Now, it might be difficult to comprehend, but there's this little thing called a  _ coincidence _ ."

Rolling her eyes again, Jessie grins wryly. "Cheeky." But she seems convinced and drops the subject, to Garlond's evident relief. Though, something else seems to catch her eye now. "Speaking of cheek, yours is looking a little rough."

Nero stiffens. Makeup can only do so much, he supposes.  _ Play it off, Scaeva. _ "Got a little too into my dramatic rendition of Heat of the Moment while cooking dinner and accidentally smashed my face against an open cupboard. You know how it is."

"Uh-huh," Jessie mutters, one eyebrow raised. She glances back toward Garlond. "So you're saying you didn't get it because someone hit you."

Garlond gives her a playfully wounded look. "I am shocked and hurt that you’d insinuate I would resort to violence. Regardless of all the times I've thought about doing it."

"Offense taken," Nero puts a hand over his heart and frowns exaggeratedly at Garlond. "How many times?" Garlond remains silent, and Jessie snickers. Shaking his head, Nero lets his voice dip into the melodramatic. "That cuts deep, Garlond. As your newest and most impressionable employee, I would think you'd show me a bit more decency."

"And I thought you would've stopped being a smartass after the first couple days, but clearly reality refuses to meet our expectations." Garlond lets out a long suffering sigh, but Nero notes a particular playfulness in his expression - more fond, less irritated. It surprises him, but he has little time to dwell on it before Garlond and Jessie have changed the subject to discuss their current commission.


	7. office musings

Lunch break. Cid's office. Wedge is dropping off some paperwork, but hesitates as he turns to leave.

"Hey Chief, is there something going on between you and Scaeva?" 

Cid nearly chokes on his sandwich. Is everyone in this office out to get him now?? From the genuinely curious look on his employee's face, he's inclined to think not, but it doesn't make him feel any better about the situation. That, and he's actively been trying to avoid thinking about Nero while he's at work. Too distracting.

"... Did Jessie say something to you?" Cid manages to keep a straight face somehow.

Wedge looks a bit embarrassed. "M-maybe," he admits, shrugging and averting his gaze. "It just got me thinking, that's all. I mean, with how you and Scaeva are always at each other's throats, I wanna make sure you're not getting hurt or anything."

Cid feels his cheeks grow warm. It's a nice gesture, all things considered. "He's really not that bad," Cid murmurs, recalling the relaxing manner they'd spent the previous evening. Nero's company had almost felt comforting, even when he simply sat on Cid's bed and did gods know what on his phone.

"He's not??" Yet again, Wedge seems genuinely curious about Cid's response. But that only makes Cid more nervous, his calm facade crumbling.

"W-well, that is to say..." He sighs, mind frantically racing to produce some sort of believable excuse, some reason to explain his position on Nero. He comes up empty. 

He's not actually sure he knows where he stands. How does he feel about Nero? Beyond the banter, beyond the rivalry... It's too difficult to process. He doesn't even know where to start.

"I mean, as long as you're happy, Chief, you have my support," Wedge says, reaching up to pat Cid's arm.

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?" Cid looks down at him, brows knitted in confusion. But there's no time for Wedge to elaborate because Nero is striding in with the air of a man with an important matter to discuss.

"I'll leave you to it," Wedge gives a salute and a small grin before scurrying out of the office, unfortunately leaving Cid alone with Nero.

"Requesting the rest of the day off," is all Nero says. 

Cid takes a deep, steadying breath. "To go collect your things from your apartment, I presume?"

"And fix my bike," Nero adds. "I doubt repairs will take me too long - you know how efficient I am - but I'd still rather leave ample time to be in and out of there before Junius even leaves work."

"Understandable." Cid nods, training his gaze on his unfinished lunch so he doesn't have to make eye contact. "Do you need a ride there? I could drive you-"

"Oh no, that's perfectly alright," Nero chuckles. "If I leave in about five minutes I can catch the next train. Besides, Jessie would have a field day if she found out. And she's already having one as is."

That has Cid releasing a particularly long-suffering sigh. "That she is. Just... let me know if you need any help with anything, okay? A motorbike isn't really an ideal mode of transportation for a move."

"Thankfully," Nero chimes in with a toothy grin, "I won't have too much to carry. I'll be fine, Garlond. Just keep me posted on our commission progress. I'd like to know what I should be working on this evening."

Cid smiles, and, despite himself, lifts his gaze. "Will do."

With that, Nero takes his leave, and Cid attempts to get back to his lunch. His mind keeps going back to Wedge's question, though. Is there something going on between him and Nero. 

Is there?

He doesn't know how to tell. It's certainly true that he's less bothered by Nero's eccentricities now, to the extent that he might even say it's endearing. Sort of. He admires Nero's intelligence, that's for sure. He has a calculated way of thinking that allows him to find solutions and innovation where Cid wouldn't have dared look. In that way, he'd go so far as to say they complement one another.

Hells, who knew he'd actually find nice things to say about Nero.

And it definitely doesn't help that he finds himself reluctant to actually purchase a bed for the guest room. He told Nero he would, had gone so far as to browse online to figure out which store to go to, but... 

A part of him wonders what Nero will do, if the only option is to share the bed again. Will he be annoyed? Will he care at all? And why does it matter so much to Cid? 

All he knows is that he wants to test it again. To see if he can replicate that same warmth he felt this morning, waking up tangled with Nero.

His face feels rather warm for the rest of his lunch break.


	8. a predicament

Magitek storage container strapped to the back of his bike, Nero speeds down the freeway. The wind feels heavenly on his face. Gods, he'd missed this. He really should have fixed the Red Baron sooner. 

It hadn't taken him too long to get the motorbike back to working condition. He'd sort of embellished the story when he told Garlond what happened; his memory can be rather poor at times, and the damage was far less than he remembered. At least it meant he didn't have to repaint. And no more subway rides, which he's especially happy about. Plus it left him enough time to stop by a pharmacy and get the fanciest Eorzian medicine kit on the shelves (the miqo’te girl at the checkout counter assured him of its efficacy, and he’s not about to argue about something not in his field of expertise).

He parks his bike out front of Garlond's house, then brings in the storage container. He hadn't lied about not bringing much - the rest of his clothes, his small array of tools that weren't being kept at the office, a few other knick knacks (which may or may not include a small collection of paissa figurines).The dresser in the guest room will serve a purpose, at least. As for his old bed, he doesn't feel bad for leaving it. The thing was old, and far too heavy to consider bringing with him. The brightside there is that Junius will have no choice but to find some way to take it apart and toss it herself (which he deems a fair punishment for the blow she'd dealt him).

Garlond is nowhere in sight, despite the presence of his car signaling him being home. Unbothered for now, Nero carries his things up to the guest room where he sets about putting things away. The dresser, as it turns out, is colossal in comparison to the amount of possessions Nero owns. He only manages to fill two drawers full with his clothes, and half of a third with his tools. (The surface is the perfect size to display his collection, though.)

"Good enough, I guess," he shrugs.

"Oh, you're back," Garlond's voice comes from behind him. "You finished bringing your stuff?"

"Like I told you," Nero starts, "I didn't have much to-" He stops mid sentence as he turns around, his mouth hanging open.

Garlond is  _ shirtless _ . His hair is wet, and a towel is draped around his neck, signs he'd showered very recently. 

_ Seven hells _ , those  _ muscles _ . 

Nero always knew Garlond was well toned - the combination of a hands-on job and a solid exercise routine, he's sure - but to see the musculature in its natural state... Bulky biceps, perfectly defined abs... He almost has the build of a comic book superhero. 

What Nero wouldn't give to run his fingers over every contour, to feel the shift of each muscle with any movement Garlond makes. What an absolutely divine-

"Are you alright?" Garlond's voice snaps him out of his impromptu stupor. He tears his eyes away and desperately attempts to compose himself, face flushed a vibrant red. So much for not reviving that crush. There's no going back, not when he can still see every detail when he closes his eyes.

He's  _ so _ fucked.

"F-fine," he manages to choke out. He actually rather wants to violently concuss himself, but doing so would only arouse further suspicion. "I didn't have much to grab to begin with. And fixing the Red Baron was a breeze."

"Glad to hear it," Garlond says. Out of the corner of his eye, Nero sees him smile. "I was half worried I'd have to come peel your guts off the pavement after I left work."

Despite himself, Nero snorts. "Oh, Junius would have obliterated me for sure. Fortunately, my guts are still very much intact." 

He makes the mistake of lifting his gaze for a brief second when Garlond reaches up and uses the towel to dry his hair, leaving his pectorals in full view. It takes all of Nero's willpower to stay on his feet, and it's all he can do but breeze past Garlond and make a beeline for the bathroom. He pointedly avoids Garlond's curious frown.

"Oh," Garlond calls after him, "I'm ordering a pizza for dinner. What do you want on it?"

Nero bites his tongue to stop himself from replying, "your abs." He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. "I don't care. Surprise me." 

Garlond shrugs and disappears into his bedroom while Nero quickly ducks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. He exhales slowly and braces himself against the door, face in his hands. This is going to be harder than he anticipated. A lot harder. Garlond is an exceedingly dangerous roommate. Landlord? He shakes his head. Roommate. Roommate sounds better. 

Well, might as well test that luxury medicine now, he supposes. It’ll give him an adequate amount of time to compose himself (and give Garlond the chance to put a shirt on). 

Nero emerges from the bathroom some time later, feeling significantly more refreshed - the medicinal cream had a surprisingly pleasant fragrance, and as much as he would dislike actually promoting Eorzian medicine (some of it is rather unscientific), his cheek does feel markedly better after application. 

To his relief, Garlond is at his desk, fully clothed, and tinkering with what Nero can only assume is the prototype for their commission. He looks up when he notices Nero's presence, though it takes him a few seconds to notice. "Pizza will be here in about twenty minutes."

"Thanks," Nero says. He purses his lips and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. After a moment of silence, he takes a step closer. "Is that...?"

"Ah, yeah," Garlond seems to remember himself, and he cuts Nero off as he gets up to bring the project closer to Nero. "Jessie and I started on the prototype before I left earlier. It's a work in progress, obviously, and it's lacking that Scaevan touch." 

That has Nero snickering. "Let me have a look at it. Guaranteed we'll have an improved design before the night is through."

"I figured as much," Garlond rolls his eyes, but his expression is a mix of fondness and amusement. Nero pretends it doesn't make his heart race.

Perhaps relaxing would have been a better way to spend the evening. Alas, the two of them are far too dedicated to their work. Besides, there's something oddly comforting about brainstorming design improvements while eating pizza on Garlond's bed.

It's only when he retreats to the bathroom and sheds his work clothes in favor of sleep ones that the realization hits. Garlond hadn't gotten a bed for the guest room. He stares at himself in the mirror and watches his face turn pink. That means they're sharing the bed again... doesn't it?

He recalls the warmth from the morning, Garlond curled up on him like a needy house cat. It's too good to recur... isn't it? 

And it's not like he can bring up the bed predicament anyway, considering he himself had completely forgotten to start apartment hunting. Maybe if he ignores it the problem will go away.

He returns to the bedroom, where he finds Garlond still hard at work at his desk. "Come now, Garlond, shouldn't you rest?" he chides. When Garlond glances back at him, he dramatically falls onto his side of the bed. "Follow my example." 

Garlond gives him a small grin, shaking his head as he returns to his work. "Soon. I just need to finish adjusting the calculations in my notes."

Nero shrugs, then climbs under the blankets and settles comfortably to sleep. Except he can't fall asleep. To be expected, really. His mind is still very much awake, and even closing his eyes and lying there, unmoving, does little to relax him. There's a part of him that wonders. What exactly will happen when Garlond joins him? Just the mere concept that they might wind up close together again makes Nero's chest feel funny.

He's not sure how much time passes, but at some point he hears Garlond finish and get up. His footsteps fade as Garlond leaves the bedroom. Unnerving silence. Then, not too long after, he returns, presumably having completed his nightly routine. Lights out.

Nero feels the bed shift as Garlond sits down on the other side. More silence. "Nero?" Garlond says softly. 

Nero doesn't speak. Instead, he does his best to even out his breathing, to calm his heart rate and provide an even more convincing image of slumber than this morning. 

And that's when it happens. Garlond, seeming satisfied by Nero's performance, lies down and proceeds to close all distance between them. Draping an arm over Nero, using Nero's chest as a pillow, he gets comfortable. He even goes so far as to  _ nuzzle _ .

Nero barely resists the urge to shout. 

He's not sure if his heart can take this. At the very least, he won't be getting any sleep tonight.


	9. more office musings (and a home cooked meal)

It's the best sleep Cid has gotten in... way too long. He wouldn't have expected the thing that fixes his sleep schedule to be... an egotistical, talkative blond who just so happens to be good at getting Cid to give up his work for the night. Well, that, and... Cid thinks sleeping with Nero might be the best thing he's ever experienced.

If he hadn't been sure what to expect on the second night, it certainly wasn't to fall asleep so quickly, easily lulled by the warmth of Nero's body next to his. Nor was it his expectation to awake in the morning to Nero's arms around him, their legs intertwined. For some time, Nero even adjusted to brush fingers gently through Cid's hair, a blissfully comforting gesture. 

Cid may have been exaggerating when he told Nero that he had any trouble getting up in the morning, but it doesn't feel like a lie anymore. The disappointment he felt when his alarm went off and Nero's movements ceased...  _ Exponential _ . He almost wished he could ignore the alarm and tell Nero to continue. But alas, after Cid silenced the noise, Nero didn't resume, and Cid had no choice but to give in and get up.

What poses a problem now, though, is that Cid can't stop thinking about it. For the rest of the day, his thoughts are completely consumed by the memory of their proximity, and the softness of Nero's touch. He'd never known Nero to be a gentle person, and yet... There was something almost reverent in the way he touched Cid. It makes Cid's heart race, and he can't quite figure out why. Did something change between them, and he just hadn't noticed? Curse his propensity to never figure anything out (at least not on his own).

Shaking his head to clear it, he checks the time. Technically, it's late enough that he could leave work, if he wanted to. But... his gaze shifts down to the pile of paperwork he'd barely started on. He sighs. Jessie will throttle him if he doesn't finish at least half before he clocks out. 

Pushing Nero from his thoughts (as far as he can be pushed, anyway), he picks up his pen and attempts to focus. He'll worry about sorting out his feelings later. 

Powering through winds up working in his favor. Jessie stops by sometime later and, upon seeing his progress, forces him to leave the rest for tomorrow.

"But-" Cid starts to protest, but she's already snatching the remainder of the paperwork from his desk. 

"No buts, sir!" She gives him a sly grin, which confuses him. "You wouldn't want to keep Scaeva waiting too long."

Cid's brows furrow, and he gives her a look. "Keep Nero waiting-? What are you talking about?" He frowns, checking the time again. "Wait, are you saying he left already?" For whatever reason, the notion that Nero would leave without telling him... disappoints him. 

"Yes, but that's not important," Jessie assures him, using her newly acquired stack of papers to lightly smack the top of Cid's head. "Now get out!"

Left with little choice, Cid relinquishes his desk chair, grabs his things, and retreats from his office to the parking structure, where he gets into his car and sits there for a while. His mind is buzzing with curiosity as to the meaning of Jessie's statements. Does she know something he doesn't? And if so, why couldn't she just tell him? They've been friends for a few years now, he would've thought he could trust her to accommodate for his dense nature. 

He finds himself rather wishing he were better at understanding...  _ everything _ . Himself, other people, and all the correlating emotions and actions. It would save him so much trouble. And heartache. 

He sighs again, frustrated, as unwarranted memories of his time working for Gaius resurface. Yes, he'd been too dense, too naive to see what was going on until it all became too much to bear. The moment his eyes cleared, the moment it all came crashing down... When he finally realized just how much he'd been used by the person he thought he trusted the most.

Cid shuts his eyes tightly and lets his head fall against the steering wheel. This, too, he wishes he could stop doing. His mind always wanders too far.

Taking a deep breath, he finally puts the keys in the ignition. 

To comfort himself, he searches out and listens to some of the songs Nero had played when they rode together the other morning. It works surprisingly well, and he even finds himself singing along.

He definitely feels a bit more himself by the time he gets home. He's not expecting the scent of food to hit him when he opens the door, his face reflexively scrunching up in alarm. It smells... delicious? Perhaps a mix of cheese and garlic. And definitely bacon. 

Cid wanders into the kitchen, mystified to find Nero at the stove. There's a skillet on one side of the stovetop, and a pot on the other, which Nero currently stirs. Next to him on the counter are the remnants of whatever ingredients are inside the pot, and a bluetooth speaker currently playing more 80s pop.

After a few seconds of Cid standing there, somewhat dumbfounded, Nero notices him and turns to give him a genial smile, which just confuses him more. "Ah, you're finally back. Did Jessie heed my advice and manage to separate you from your beloved work?"

Ah. So Nero must have contacted Jessie to check on him. It's... an oddly thoughtful gesture, really. Is this what she'd meant when she told Cid not to keep Nero waiting? Cid frowns. "Yeah," he mutters, approaching the stovetop cautiously. "... You made dinner?"

"Surprised?" Nero smirks now, the expression more familiar. "Lest you fret, I'm rather handy in the kitchen. Taught myself to cook when I was a teen, as it happens." To his credit, the pasta in the pot looks incredibly appetizing, and Nero laughs when Cid's stomach unceremoniously growls. "I hope you like spaghetti carbonara. Go on and change out of your work clothes, I'll set the table." 

Ushered from the kitchen, Cid reluctantly does as he's told and heads up to his room. He dumps his bag by his work desk and stands there for a long moment, trying to process what just happened.

Nero had cared enough to have Jessie send him home, and on top of that, he went so far as to prepare (what appears to be) a skillfully cooked meal. Furthermore, Cid knows he didn't have the ingredients to make something like that, meaning Nero deliberately stopped somewhere to get the proper ingredients. 

Again, Cid is struck by Nero's thoughtfulness. Had Nero always been this way and he'd just never paid attention? Or is this a new development? It's too difficult to tell, but he can't say he doesn't like it. In fact... If he thinks about it, the idea of having a home-cooked meal with Nero makes his insides feel warm. And his face. Very warm. He shakes his head and hurries to change.


	10. consciously, this time

The dinner plan goes better than Nero anticipated. The idea had come to him while he was lying in bed that morning, stroking Garlond's shockingly soft hair (it sounds worse when he puts it that way). 

What if he just... gave in? What if he just said fuck it and let himself do whatever stupid, nice things his heart wants him to do? It's completely uncharacteristic, and will be sure to raise some eyebrows (the pair of silver ones on the face that had been inches from his this morning). 

Seven hells, who knew it would only take two days of living with Garlond to reach this point. To deliberately leave work early to frantically run to the grocer and pick up the ingredients he just knows won't be anywhere in Garlond's house ( _ rich people _ , he shakes his head,  _ all that money and they can't even fully stock their refrigerator or pantry _ ).

Despite being put off at first, Garlond seems to thoroughly enjoy the meal. They converse easily over dinner, perhaps in part due to Garlond's interest in Nero's culinary background. Nero, being Nero, isn't one to turn down an opportunity to talk about himself -- thus he ends up (over)sharing about his experiences with learning to cook. Garlond doesn't seem to mind, though, which he'll take as a good sign. 

It's later, though, after Nero gets ready for bed, that something even more unusual happens. To start, he doesn't have to prompt Garlond to give his work a rest. Once Nero starts his nightly routine, Garlond is quick to follow. That in itself doesn't feel worthy of note until Nero climbs into bed (realizing belatedly that another day has passed in which no bed was purchased for the guest room and no apartments were looked for). Garlond switches off the light, and soon joins him. 

It takes a second, but Nero feels Garlond's eyes on him. As his own adjust to the dark, he finds Garlond's gaze searching him, and his heart skips a beat. "... What?" he asks hesitantly.

Garlond is silent, his lips pursed. When he does speak, his voice is soft, and Nero has to strain to hear him. "... At night, we... That is to say..." He seems to struggle figuring out how to articulate his thoughts, but the first few words already have Nero holding his breath. "Maybe this will seem an odd request... but... The past two nights, we were... c-cuddling. And this morning, I woke up and you were holding me." 

Nero's heart threatens to stop, then decides it actually would rather hammer its way out of his chest. His face feels immeasurably warm. He tries to find his voice, which comes out unsteady. "... Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"

Garlond frowns at him. "Don't be an arse. You can't deny it, Nero."

No, he really can't. But he also hadn't expected to be called out so quickly, either. Should he be defensive? What stance is Garlond taking, anyway? He does not have enough information to go on and it's just further stressing him out. 

When he fails to respond, Garlond sighs. "... Nevermind. Forget I brought it up." He rolls over onto his side to face away from Nero.

Fuck. Did Nero mess up? He doesn't like the hint of disappointment in Garlond's voice. Swallowing his pride, he reluctantly asks, "What's the request?" Garlond glances back at him, still frowning. "You said you had an odd request. What is it?"

Now that his eyes are fully adjusted to the dark, he watches in awe as Garlond's cheeks start to turn a noticeable shade of pink. Why is he blushing? "... It's not important," Garlond mutters, looking away.

"On the contrary," Nero gently prods Garlond's side with a finger, "I think it is. Just speak, Garlond, there's no judgment here."

Garlond stays quiet for a long moment. Then, presently, he shifts and rolls back over to face Nero. The blush is even more evident on his cheeks, and Nero finds himself thinking the color is way too adorable on him. "... I just... I've been... It's been on my mind all day. I.. really liked how it felt. And I was wondering..." Progressively, the blush ripens to a dark red. "If... if we could do that again. But... Y'know... Consciously." 

Nero stares. He blinks a few times, does his best to process those words. Then his brain hard starts and he realizes what Garlond is actually asking. "You... want me to-?" He stops, flustered by the prospect of saying it out loud.

Garlond swallows and nods. "If you're alright with it."

If there are any gods in this world, Nero wonders just what they're trying to do to him. Is this some sort of sick joke? Or is he supposed to believe that  _ Cid Garlond _ enjoyed lying in his arms and having Nero brush fingers through his hair? To be fair, that's what Garlond is saying. Isn't it? Hells, now he's starting to question if he's understanding this at all. 

Taking a deep breath, Nero recalls his mindset from the morning. Maybe he should just give in. Maybe he should just do whatever he fucking wants. If Garlond wants to fucking cuddle, then gods be damned, Nero will give him the best fucking cuddles he'll ever get. 

"Well, come here then," Nero says, relieved he doesn't sound as frantic as he feels. He opens his arms. Garlond stares at him, wide-eyed. "We don't have all night," Nero chuckles, raising an eyebrow.

After another moment of hesitation, Garlond moves. He wiggles closer, settles himself against Nero's body with Nero's arm under his head like a pillow. The warmth is a blessing, and Nero is quick to pull Garlond tighter against him, tangling their legs together as they'd been this morning. He can feel Garlond's heartbeat, rapid, erratic. It echoes his own, which is rather comforting. 

He raises a hand and gently combs his fingers through strands of silver hair. "Is this alright?" Nero asks. Garlond manages a small nod. 

Nero isn't sure how to feel about this. On some level, he's ecstatic. Is there anything better than your crush explicitly asking you to hold them? But he also doesn't want to be reading this wrong. It's not like Garlond ever had much physical affection from anyone. Maybe he's just touch starved. Gods know Nero was, for a time. 

Still, it is... rather comforting. It means Garlond spent the day... thinking about Nero. He's allowed to be happy about that, isn't he? Even if he is possibly interpreting things the wrong way.

He has to remind his heart to keep beating when Garlond releases a soft, contented sigh and nuzzles closer, into the crook of his neck. Maybe. Just  _ maybe _ . He's interpreting this correctly. 

Does he dare to hope?

It isn’t long before Garlond’s breathing slows. For Nero, though, sleep does not come so easily.


	11. a ride on the red baron

Nero isn't sure when he fell asleep. He supposes he's grateful that he slept at all, what with how hyper aware of Garlond's warmth he was. That, and... His mind just wouldn't stop cycling through all the possibilities. 

That Garlond simply craves physical affection, that there's no evidence he could return Nero's feelings. That reciprocation is the only way to make sense of the drastic escalation of their relationship (gods, has it really only been four days since he left his apartment? It feels like longer). That it's all just wishful thinking. 

It's too much for his brain to process. 

He sighs. For someone who usually relies on logic and facts, he sure does struggle when it comes to Garlond. 

Well, in his defense, technology is one thing. People, on the other hand, are so much more complicated. It's the difference between inanimate objects and sentient beings with thoughts and feelings of their own that Nero cannot begin to fathom.

... He's also torn about the cuddling. As much as he wants Garlond's affection, he also doesn't like feeling that he's possibly taking advantage of Garlond in a vulnerable state. Isn't that sort of what this is? Garlond wants company and attention, and Nero provides it, but inadvertently he's just using the situation to be closer to Garlond-

He screws his eyes shut and resists the urge to groan. Too much to think about...

He's almost happy when Garlond's alarm goes off in the morning and he has an excuse to get out of bed. (He instantly misses the warmth, but he forces that feeling down.)

If there's one thing worth relief, it's that the bruise on his cheek has already begun to heal, having gone from red to purple to a blue-ish green in the days since he first began applying the medicinal cream. Thankfully, that Eorzian medicine proved to be just as efficient as the pharmacist told him - not that he didn't believe her or anything.

Garlond, too, notices the change over breakfast (which Nero cooks this time; egg-in-a-hole, which seems to charm Garlond). "Looks better," Garlond says around a mouthful of eggs and toast, gesturing toward Nero's cheek. "Still hurt?"

Nero stifles a chuckle against the back of his hand. Why is everything Garlond does so... cute? It's almost annoying. Almost. "Not really, no. Just glad I don't have to cake on concealer anymore." Garlond nods his agreement and shovels more toast into his mouth.

After they've finished eating, Nero grabs his bag and helmet and heads outside to his bike. To his surprise, Garlond tails him, watching with barely hidden curiosity as Nero puts his helmet on and starts the engine. When Garlond doesn't leave, Nero hesitates, then kills it. "What?" he asks.

Garlond purses his lips, thoughtful, before gesturing vaguely toward the bike. "What's it like, riding that?"

"Only the best thing in the world," Nero answers almost immediately, proudly patting the side of the vehicle. "The Red Baron has been modified for flawlessly smooth driving. With a quiet engine, the wind on your face, nothing between you and road... Even perfection would be an understatement. I've always preferred my motorbike over a stuffy car." Garlond seems to hang onto his every word, and that's when Nero picks up the hint. "... Do you want a ride?"

Garlond doesn't look surprised at the offer, only a bit bashful. "Will it fit two people?" 

"Oh, easily!" Nero hops off the bike with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. "Hang on, I just got a second helmet the other day-" 

"You did, did you?" One of Garlond's brows goes up. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you actually planned on something like this happening."

Blush dusts Nero's cheeks, despite his attempts to stay nonchalant. "Can you blame me? I mean, the Red Baron is irresistible. I knew it was only a matter of time before you fell for his rugged charms."

"Stop talking as if the bike is a person," Garlond makes a face. "Are you sure you're not just using it as an excuse to talk about yourself?"

Nero blinks at Garlond, opens and closes his mouth a few times. Hells, he sort of has a point there. "A-am I wrong?" He curses his voice for wavering.

Quietly, Garlond steps forward, running his fingers over the sleek red frame. Then he glances between the bike and Nero and, with the softest smile, murmurs, "Rugged charms, huh? Yeah, I guess you're right."

Nero's eyes go round, and his blush darkens at least two shades. What's that supposed to mean?? Is he talking about the bike, or-? 

Swallowing thickly, Nero blurts, "I'll be right back with that helmet," and makes a mad dash for the house. Garlond just chuckles as he follows behind, keys jangling in his hand.

A few minutes later, Nero returns to his bike with Garlond in tow, clutching the helmet. This time, Garlond hesitantly climbs on behind him. "Alright, what do I do."

Nero snickers, thankful to have somehow found his composure in the short span of time. "For starters, loosen up. You won't be able to enjoy it if you're stiff as a log back there." Garlond gives him a sour look and he laughs. "Put your feet there," he points. "And you'll probably want to hold onto me. As a precaution. Wouldn't want you catapulting off while we're on the highway."

"Bold of you to assume I wouldn't take you with me," Garlond grumbles, but he does as instructed. It's difficult to resist the urge to jump when his muscular arms snake around Nero's waist. His grip is probably tighter than need be, but Nero isn't about to stop him. 

It's fine, isn't it? Can't he have this? It's a little harmless fun, after all. 

He tries to pretend his heart doesn't roar to life with the engine as he puts up the kickstand and takes off down the road, Garlond's grip tightening as they pick up speed. 

"Are you sure this is safe?" Garlond asks. His voice is muffled by the wind, but with how close his mouth is to Nero’s ear, he hears crystal clear. 

"It's a little late for that," Nero chuckles. Garlond makes a disgruntled noise. "C'mon, Garlond, where's your sense of adventure? Do you really think I'd let any harm come to you?"

He doesn't have visual confirmation (his eyes are, after all, on the road), but he gets the feeling that Garlond is blushing. And that makes him happy. "You better drive the speed limit," is all Garlond mutters.

As they pull up to a traffic light, Nero reaches back and pats one of Garlond's thighs. "Rest assured, you're in capable hands," he says with a signature smirk.

He loses a bit of that bravado when he feels Garlond rest his head against his back as the light turns green. He finds himself grateful that Garlond can't see the flush on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't actually know anything about motorbikes i'm sorry


	12. even more office musings

Cid reclines in his chair and stares at his office ceiling. The morning is still fresh on his mind. Well, more than that. He supposes the past few days have been the constant subject of his thoughts. Who knew Nero would make for such a good… house guest? That feels too formal. They're technically roommates. Aren't they?

His brow furrows. Do roommates usually cuddle? Or prepare a homemade (arguably romantic) dinner? Or share a(n arguably romantic) motorbike ride to work? Or... Gods forbid he use the term…  _ flirt _ ??? 

That's what they've been doing, isn't it? He can think of no other way to describe the particular change in their banter. Everything has felt... lighter. More affectionate. And it's strange, but he doesn't think he minds it. He might have, when Nero first accepted his offer for a job. But... He supposes that was... not the best time for them. Cid was still grappling with his conflicting feelings of leaving Gaius behind. He can only imagine that Nero, too, struggled with his own problems. That their relationship has come this far, not just since then, but particularly in the past few days...

Cid feels himself begin to blush. He can't say it doesn't make sense. They make something of a brilliant pair, when they're not bickering. With that said, though... How does he actually feel about Nero? Is he ready to delve further into this?

The longer he tries to think about it, the more red his face grows. Gods, is it possible? Could he actually-?

"You alright, Chief?" Cid nearly leaps out of his chair when he hears Biggs' voice. He holds a hand over his chest in an attempt to calm his frantic heart rate. Biggs gives him an apologetic grin. "Sorry, Chief, didn't mean to startle ya."

Taking a deep breath, Cid shakes his head and smiles ruefully. "It's fine. But next time, would you be so kind as to knock?"

Biggs gives him a look and an amused chortle. "I did." Cid blinks at him. Drat. He'd been more preoccupied than he realized. "It's not like you to be daydreamin' at your desk. Gil for your thoughts, Chief?"

"I-it's nothing of importance," Cid hastily assures him, blush returning to his cheeks. Seven hells, how can Nero be such a thorough distraction when he's not even here?? "A-anyway, did you need something?"

Biggs shuffles his feet and appears somewhat bashful. "Well, y'see..." He glances from side to side, avoiding Cid's gaze. "Jessie told me you got a ride on Scaeva's motorbike this morning." 

Cid's expression stiffens. That girl is relentless. "She did, did she," he mutters, sighing and rubbing his temple with one hand.

"Yeah, and I was wonderin' if... Y'know... could you ask Scaeva if he'd be willing to share the Red Baron's specs?" Biggs puts his hands together and gives Cid puppy eyes. 

Cid returns the look with one of bafflement. 

"I... what? Why?" He frowns, shaking his head. "Why don't you just ask him yourself?"

"That bike is  _ legendary _ ," Biggs explains, clearly impassioned. "I've been trying to mod my own bike to a similar extent with no luck so far. C'mon, Chief, please? He only listens to you!"

At that, Cid's eyes widen. "... Does he?"

"Definitely." Biggs nods emphatically and leans in closer to add in a whisper, "You're his soft spot." 

"Why are you whispering? We're the only ones in this room," Cid says with an exaggerated frown. His blush brightens as if to spite him. "I... suppose I could mention it to him, if you really want me to."

Now Biggs pumps a victorious fist in the air and lunges forward to give Cid a (rather forceful) pat on the shoulder. "Thank you so much, Chief! I owe you one!"

"Yes, yes, now get out and go get ready," Cid makes a shooing motion with his hands, "We're meeting our client in less than hour to show them the prototype." 

"Aye aye, sir," Biggs says with a haphazard salute. As he starts to leave, though, he pauses, seems to remember something, and turns to face Cid again. "Oh, by the way, Wedge was telling me about his date from last night." Cid's brows knit in confusion, and he opens his mouth to ask for clarification, but Biggs goes on before he can get anything out. "Apparently he made all these fancy plans but the girl just wanted to hang out at his place and watch a movie, so that’s what they did. Sounds like it went pretty well. According to him they even kissed." He winks way too conspicuously at Cid. "Just a thought, y'know."

"A movie...?" Cid considers the idea with interest. It's not halfway bad. What was that film Nero mentioned liking? The silly one from the late 80s. He vaguely recalls Nero saying something along the lines of, "It's not without its problems but the humor is bloody timeless."

Then he processes the rest of Biggs' implications. Date??  _ Kiss _ ??? His face burns as he gives Biggs an affronted look. "Now see here! Nero and I aren't-!"

But Biggs is already on his way out with a cheery, "See you at the meeting, Chief!"

Cid stares after him. 

Why.... Why does everyone in the office have the wrong idea? It's not like Cid told them he and Nero are currently living together. In fact, he's pretty sure he went out of his way  _ not _ to tell anyone, and he doubts Nero would go and share the information either, considering he'd respected Cid's unspoken request the first time Jessie commented about them arriving at the same time. 

Is it... their dynamic? He supposes they rather do give off the appearance of "an old married couple." When he thinks about it that way, his face feels even warmer than before. 

Alright, maybe they do... sort of seem like they're... together. He deliberately avoids using the word dating but it worms its way into his head anyway. Like a... couple? His heart races. That's... It would certainly work better to explain the specific turn their relationship had taken. 

Which leads him back to his earlier question. How does he feel about Nero? How can he know for certain? He has so little experience (at least when it comes to romance), he's not sure where to begin. 

Biggs' words repeat in his mind. A date... watching a movie... and a kiss. 

A kiss.

What would it be like to kiss Nero?

That thought takes him by surprise. His brows furrow and he bites his lip. Should he even try to imagine it?

For better or worse, he does make an attempt. His blush ripens to a dark red, and his heart feels like it might explode out of his chest. 

After a prolonged moment, he grunts and lets his head fall onto his desk with a loud thud. He might actually have to do something about this. 

Gods, give him the strength to get through this meeting without any further distractions.


	13. plotting...?

Nero is more than a little relieved to make it back to Garlond's home that evening. That particular client had been... difficult to work with, to say the least. It had taken all of Nero's willpower to stay civil, and the only way he could do that was by not opening his mouth at all. Garlond seemed vaguely amused by (and at least a little grateful for) his self control. "It definitely could have gone worse," Garlond says with a wry chuckle. "I'll admit, even I started to get fed up with the incessant interrupting. You'd think I hadn't been in the middle of explaining all the details."

"You were a good deal more polite than I would have been," Nero huffs. "If I hadn't resolved myself to let you do all the talking, I fear I might have been a little... snappy." With a sigh, he drops his bag by the dining room table and slumps into a chair, resting an elbow on the table and settling his chin on the palm of his hand. "You were remarkable, though. It's clear you have a knack for this sort of thing. The people aspect, I mean. You always have."

Garlond's eyes widen slightly. "Did you just... praise me? Unprompted?"

"Don't let it go to your head," Nero says, frowning, and Garlond rolls his eyes (fondly). "Anyway, I'm beat. Long day. Long week, rather. Can we order delivery?" 

The request seems to pique Garlond's interest. He thinks for a long moment, nodding his head. Strange. It was a simple question, yet the length of his deliberation would seem to imply otherwise. Unless he's contemplating something else? 

After a bit longer, Garlond nods again. "Yeah, let's. And, actually, I was thinking it might be nice to unwind and watch something tonight." It's Nero's turn to widen his eyes. "If I recall correctly, you're a fan of the film The Princess Bride?"

Now that certainly surprises Nero. How long ago had he even brought up that movie? The fact that Garlond remembered... Maybe it shouldn't make him that happy, but it does. "Yes, it's one of my favorites," he nods with enthusiasm. "Don't tell me you still haven't seen it."

"Alas, I have not," Garlond gives him a guilty grin. "Should we rent it? I can stream it to my TV."

Nero beams. "Finally, an excuse to use that huge flat screen in your living room. Is this the first time you've watched anything on it? I have trouble believing it's anything but a decoration." 

"First of all, how dare you," Garlond says, pouting. Pouting! That should be illegal. "I do watch things. For example, I rather like that painter. The soft spoken one who always encourages you to paint along with him."

Nero holds a hand over his heart. "You watch _Bob Ross_? That's bloody  adorable ."

"Don't patronize me." Garlond's eyes narrow, but his cheeks are pink. "Now hurry up and pick what you want to eat. I wanna do food first before we start the movie."

"Sounds like a plan," Nero says and gives a lazy salute, grabbing his phone to start browsing restaurant options. 

With their delivery order placed, Nero retreats upstairs to change out of his work clothes. He makes a quick stop by the bathroom to check his bruise, as well, which has continued to heal quite nicely. The color has faded to a light greenish-yellow, and the size has begun to shrink. 

He has a moment of retrospection as he gazes at his reflection in the mirror. Even with the bruise healing, he can still vividly recall the instant he got it, the sickening sound of Junius' fist connecting with his face. Retaliation, for his own attack on Baelsar. 

Baelsar's words at that time... His stomach twists uncomfortably. He supposes he should be grateful Garlond still doesn't know. He can only imagine the pain Garlond would feel, to hear Baelsar's blatant objectification of him. 

He lets out a long exhale. Still. On some level, he's almost grateful the events played out the way they did. Without Baelsar's interference, he might have still been miserably sharing an apartment with one of the most insufferable people of his acquaintance. He wouldn't have had the (blessed) opportunities to share Garlond's bed, and have dinner together, and watch one of Nero's favorite films.

Ah. Nero cringes as he remembers their original deal when he first moved in. He was supposed to be apartment hunting all this time, wasn't he. And he hadn't even so much as opened the search browser on his phone.

In his defense, Garlond also hadn't gotten a bed for the guest room yet, either. Though, at this point, he rather wonders if he actually intends to or not. 

Nero stares his reflection a bit longer, thoughtful. Should he... Should he bring up rent again? He doesn't want to be a freeloader, especially considering he has no plans whatsoever to actually look for a new place to stay. But... On the other hand, broaching the subject runs the risk of being told flat out that he'd overstayed his welcome. Or maybe that's just his brain being overly cautious. After all, Garlond has done nothing to imply he wants Nero to leave. On the contrary, his actions and words lead Nero to believe Garlond genuinely likes having him here.

"Now there's a thought," he mutters, smiling wryly. Cid Garlond, actually enjoying the presence of one Nero Scaeva. The Nero of the past would have a hard time believing any of this.

With a weary sigh, Nero shakes his head. He'll worry about it later. For now, he’s got a delightful order of gourmet pasta on the way, and The Princess Bride awaits. 

Making his way back downstairs, he finds Garlond had also finished changing, and sits on the couch, phone in hand. 

"Ready?" he asks. Nero nods. "Food will be here soon and then… it’s movie time." 

"Perfect," Nero grins, plopping onto the couch next to Garlond. He’s definitely ready for a relaxing night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just try and tell me nero wouldn't love the princess bride. i dare you.


	14. as you wish

The pros: the food is delicious, and Garlond thoroughly enjoys the movie. 

The cons: the second they finish eating, Garlond is in his lap. 

It all happens rather fast. First they’re simply sitting beside one another. Garlond adjusts to lean slightly against Nero, their shoulders touching. Nero ignores it for a brief while. And then, while laughing at a scene from the film, Garlond shifts again, putting more weight on Nero. And more. Until Nero has to acquiesce and adjust his own position, which Garlond had seemed to be counting on, since the second Nero’s legs are open, Garlond practically falls into his lap. 

“This seat taken?” Garlond asks, eyes alight with a mischief Nero isn’t accustomed to seeing on him. 

Nero blushes faintly. “It is now,” he mutters in response, and Garlond just gets more comfortable.

He fits unfairly well against Nero, his smaller frame the perfect size for Nero to wrap his arms around. And Garlond puts all his weight against Nero, such that Nero could fully map out his back muscles if he tried. It's entirely too distracting, and yet he doesn't want to even consider Garlond moving away.

It's...cozy. Intimate. Romantic, even.

If there are any gods in the world, they must be set on tormenting him. 

After the movie is over, they stay in that position for some time, discussing the problematic aspects of the film, as well as the ways the humor has held up to the test of time. Nero keeps thinking Garlond will get up, but still Garlond doesn't move. If anything, he settles even more comfortably against Nero, fully content to stay like this.

What's he supposed to do? It's not like he can just ask Garlond to get up. Well, he could, but that would draw explicit attention to their position, and the idea of doing that is excruciating. 

But it's impossible to have Garlond this close and not let his mind wander. To not let his hands wander.  _ Careful, Scaeva _ , he inwardly chides,  _ Lest you do something dangerous _ .

And then, at some point, Garlond falls silent. He's pensive, evidently lost in thought. Slowly, he adjusts, turning himself around so that he's facing Nero. This position is even more precarious because now Nero has a full view of his face and they're so godsdamn close. Close enough that he could lean in and-

That's when he notices Garlond getting closer. "Garlond?" he mutters, brows furrowing, heart racing wildly. No response. "What're you-?"

The touch is so brief, so light that Nero is left to wonder if he imagined it. But he knows he felt the brush of Garlond's beard against his skin. 

Garlond had kissed him. 

Like a dam broken, blush floods his cheeks, his mouth hanging open. Garlond is blushing as well, but he laughs when he sees Nero's reaction. It's a fluttering sound, bright and amused, which only makes Nero blush brighter. 

_ Garlond _ had  _ kissed _ him.

"Wh-what was that??" he stammers, trying and failing to calm his desperate heart.

"... I wanted to try it," Garlond says in a soft voice. He seems a bit timid now, averting his gaze, though he still remains on Nero's lap, a tantalizing weight on Nero's thighs.

Nero struggles to process the situation. It doesn't feel real, and yet Garlond himself is proof of its authenticity. This clearly isn't a dream, nor does it appear to be a jest (which wouldn't have made sense with Garlond's personality, anyway). 

Garlond. Had. Kissed. Him. 

What a… shock. What a  _ revelation _ . Is there a particular god Nero should thank for this?

And really, if Garlond expected it to end there, he has another thing coming. 

"Let me show you how it's done," Nero murmurs. (Was his voice husky? It…  _ definitely _ felt husky.)

Garlond's eyes widen. "Wh-?" He starts to ask something, but is cut off when Nero raises his arms, locks them behind Garlond's neck to pull his head closer, and captures his mouth with a force that makes him grunt in surprise. 

It's been a good while since Nero kissed anyone. Not like he has much experience to draw from, anyway, but he does his best to recall the occasions in order to utilize the knowledge. If Garlond wants a kiss, he's going to get the best damm kiss Nero can muster. 

Garlond clings to him. He's flush against Nero, all warmth and pliant muscle. Each shift has Nero hyper aware of Garlond's body. Garlond makes a small noise when Nero deepens the kiss, and grabs fistfuls of Nero's shirt as if to tug him even closer.

The sensation is otherworldly. The prickle of Garlond's beard on his chin, the plush press of lips to his own, Garlond's eager tongue, the way his hips move deliciously against him. 

It's almost too much. 

Almost.

When he finally releases Garlond, Garlond is breathless and panting, and he drops his head to Nero's shoulder. Nero, too, tries to catch his breath, as well as soothe his rapid heart rate. A relief, at least, that Garlond's heart is pounding just as much. 

Is it possible, Nero wonders. This is a confirmation. Of sorts. Why else would he want to try kissing Nero?

... Meaning Nero hadn't been wrong about the signs. Right? He's right this time, isn't he? Garlond  _ must _ reciprocate. Otherwise none of this would make any sense. Otherwise...

"Can..." Garlond lifts his head, his voice quiet, but there's a hint of desire in it that makes Nero's heart leap into his throat. "... Can we do that again?" 

Nero would want to shout if he didn't furiously care about not ruining the moment. 

Would it be too corny to quote the movie they just watched? He half considers saying, "As you wish," until he catches sight of Garlond's flushed face and slightly swollen lips.

_ Seven hells _ , how can any one person be so wholly and unfairly tempting? He doesn’t think he could speak again even if he wanted to.

Rather than voice an answer, Nero simply kisses Garlond again, heart thrumming with excitement when Garlond kisses back.


	15. warmer mornings and forgotten weekend obligations

Cid drifts awake to a now familiar warmth. Arms encompassing him, a lanky frame curled almost protectively around his smaller one. He smiles to himself and settles closer, basking in the comfort of that warmth and feeling the rise and fall of Nero’s chest as he breathes. 

The previous night feels like a dream. How many times had they kissed? Too many to count. It makes Cid’s face feel warm to remember. Each one was better than his feeble imagination had attempted to picture. His mind is better suited to coming up with inventive new technology, not… accurately predicting how amazing a certain blond engineer will be at kissing. And  _ amazing _ doesn’t even begin to describe how it felt. 

Feels, rather. Even just lying here together is a bit different now, in a way he can’t put into words. If possible, it’s better than ever. 

This is confirmation, he supposes. The answer to the question he’d asked himself so many times, and tried too often to avoid. He almost feels silly for taking this long to figure it out. Though, if Nero’s enthusiasm is anything to go by, he doesn’t think Nero minds so much (if at all).

Cid fully regrets when his alarm goes off (for the third time) and Nero stirs. He stretches his long limbs, and, with a soft groan, curls back in and pulls Cid tightly to him. Cid lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, more than happy to oblige and return the embrace. He buries his face against Nero’s chest, and his heart thrills when he feels a kiss planted atop his head.

“How the hells is your hair that soft,” Nero grumbles sleepily. 

“Good morning to you, too,” Cid laughs again. 

He likes this. If he had the choice, he’d want to stay in bed for much longer, but soon Nero is moving and attempting to disentangle their bodies. “We should get up,” Nero says, tilting his head to give Cid an amused look. 

Cid pouts and clings. “Do we have to…?”

“Maybe not,” Nero concedes, one of his brows quirking upward. “But I implore you to picture our friends and colleagues’ reactions when we both turn up at the office very late and very unkempt.”

Now Cid blushes and frowns. “... Point taken. But why exactly are we unkempt in your hypothetical?”

“Because…” Nero holds Cid’s gaze for a long moment, a flicker of desire in his eyes that makes Cid’s chest flutter. “The longer we stay in bed, the closer I get to giving in to temptation and kissing you bloody senseless.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. But Cid finds himself thinking he’d really prefer that to getting up. 

With a slow exhale, he loosens his grip on Nero. Before he moves, though, he pauses, then quickly pecks Nero on the lips. Nero’s eyes widen, and he attempts to grab onto Cid, but Cid is faster and ducks out of the way, making his escape from the bed.

“That was unfair,” Nero whines, sitting up and folding his arms. He fixes Cid with a victimized frown, which just makes Cid laugh. “Though I suppose I did set myself up for it.” He sighs melodramatically. 

“More where that came from,” Cid tells him, grinning cheekily. “Later, though. If you can wait that long.”

Nero feigns a scandalized look, placing a hand over his heart. “Is that a threat, Garlond?”

Laughing again, Cid shakes his head. “No, it’s a promise.”

Cid is in an excellent mood the whole morning (particularly when Nero gives him a ride to work again - the Red Baron, he will admit, is quite enjoyable). It persists throughout the day, well into the evening. It would have carried over into the night had Jessie not reminded him of a certain weekend obligation.

He’d been excited about the prospect of the weekend. It’d be the first prolonged amount of time he and Nero would be spending together that wouldn’t be interrupted by work, and he sort of wants to make plans (or maybe watch another movie, since the after-film cuddles plus kissing session was quite a treat). He’s in the middle of voicing this to Nero when Jessie passes by, her expression suspicious.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Mr. Garlond?” She points out, arms folded across her chest. 

Cid blinks at her, unsure. “... Am I?” he asks.

With a sigh, she shifts to put her hands on her hips. “I know you don’t want to go, but seriously, you have to think of our company image, sir! That convention is the perfect opportunity to meet potential clients and sponsors!”

Ah. The big tech con. The one that Garlond Tech had been graciously invited to despite their relatively new presence in the industry. Cid remembers Gaius going a few times back in the day, which was part of the reason Cid has been dreading going. But, in all honesty, the whole situation with Nero had completely forced the issue from his mind. He genuinely forgot the con was tomorrow.

He suppresses a disappointed sigh. So much for a relaxing Saturday with… Oh gods. He’d almost referred to Nero as his  _ boyfriend _ . Is that what they are now? They still technically hadn’t talked about what happened. Cid feels a bit foolish to be apprehensive about bringing it up, considering the amount of time they’d spent kissing. 

But still… Maybe Nero will broach the subject? Would it be bad for Cid to let it go for now and wait? At least until the con is over.

“That convention is basically a party for popular tech giants, isn’t it?” Nero snickers, drawing him out of his thoughts. “What a spectacle. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back.”

Cid turns to him, eyes lighting up as an idea strikes. “Won’t you come with me?” He takes a step closer to Nero, whose eyes widen. 

“... Why?” Nero looks at him skeptically. “I’m just an employee here, not the lead engineer.”

“So?” Cid takes another step closer and dials up the pleading sparkle in his eyes as he holds Nero’s gaze. “I hate formal events like this. Having you there with me would be a great comfort.”

Nero frowns, but a faint blush dusts his cheeks. “But you’re the people person. That’s what you’re good at.”

“I may be good at it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t thoroughly exhaust me,” Cid laughs. “Besides, I can’t expect to be able to fully discuss our projects if I don’t have my right hand man with me. You’re just as responsible for our recent designs as I am.”

At that, Nero’s blush brightens a bit, though he’s clearly doing his best to still look nonchalant. Cid finds it oddly adorable. “... If you really can’t be parted from my company for that long, then I suppose I have no choice.” He averts his gaze. Cid beams, already feeling better about the event. 

“I’m glad you’ll both be going,” Jessie cuts in, and Cid jumps nearly a foot in the air, having forgotten she was still there. “But… Scaeva, for the love of whatever gods are listening, please let Mr. Garlond do all the talking.”

Nero pouts at her. “What, you think I couldn’t sweet talk a sponsor or two if I wanted?”

She gives him a deadpan look. “See, that’s the problem. Your  _ sweet talk _ is exactly the kind of thing that will ensure nobody wants to work with us ever again.”

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” Now Nero narrows his eyes, frowning exaggeratedly. “I’m perfectly capable! Aren’t I, Garlond?”

Cid snorts and pointedly looks away. “Don’t drag me into this if you aren’t prepared to hear the truth, Nero.”

Melodramatic as ever, Nero sniffles and places a hand over his heart in his usual wounded manner. “I hate this fucking family,” he sighs. Cid has to fight the urge to laugh again, and then also fight the urge to reach out, grab Nero by the lapels of his jacket, and yank him down to kiss the stupid histrionic pout off lips. Gods know Jessie wouldn’t let him live that down, and he really doesn’t want to add any more fuel to that fire at the moment (especially considering she seems somewhat smug after witnessing Cid’s lapse in judgment).

Before she leaves, though, Jessie puts a hand on Cid’s shoulder, her expression serious. “Be careful in there, Mr. Garlond.” It’s a thoughtful gesture, and Cid appreciates that she cares enough to say so. They both know the likelihood of seeing a certain someone at that convention is all but guaranteed. Cid only hopes he can avoid having to interact with Gaius, even if he does have to be in the same room as him. 

“Will do,” he says, smiling reassuringly at her. 

When he and Nero are riding home, Nero remarks, “If we do see him there, I hope you know I have no qualms about making a scene. I’m sure I could get in at least two or three punches before security apprehends me.”

Despite himself, Cid chuckles. It’s a nice thought, at the very least. Yes, having Nero there will definitely make the event better. Somehow Nero seems to make a lot of things better lately. And Cid likes that.

He holds onto Nero a bit more tightly and spends the rest of the ride thinking about the term  _ boyfriend _ and wondering how it would feel to say it aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i went with garlond tech because still calling the company "garlond ironworks" in a modern au felt kinda awkward lol


	16. five fruity drinks, one wealthy sponsor

Nero marvels at how this place can feel so stuffy, despite the lax nature of the event. He’d joked with Garlond when they arrived that the reason was because tech people simply don’t know how to let loose, but it really does feel like he hit a little too close to home. 

For example, he’s the only person in the whole room to make multiple trips to the drinks table. What’s the point of a drinks table if nobody drinks the drinks? Nero himself has had at least four or five of them, to make up for it. Delicious little fruity drinks they are, too, with only the slightest burn down his throat to remind him that they do, in fact, contain alcohol.

On the bright side, they’d found out upon arrival that Baelsar’d had to cancel his appearance there. Nero couldn’t care less what held him up, only that it meant Garlond wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells the whole time. He’s only mildly disappointed that he won’t have the chance to punch Baelsar again. More reason to grab another drink.

Well. Actually, maybe he shouldn’t keep drinking. But he has little idea what else to do, considering Garlond had some time ago been torn away from his side by a gaggle of engineers all eager to hear his advice and ask him questions about his business. It’d be cute if it didn’t bother Nero so much, and he wishes he didn’t know why it bothers him.

It’s not… jealousy per se. Nor is it disdain, as Nero’s well past the phase of clamoring for constant attention and recognition. If he has Garlond’s good opinion (which it’s seeming more and more likely that he does) then he really doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. 

He does, however, get a pang of loneliness, watching Garlond smile and laugh amongst others. Maybe it’s the little part of Nero that still feels unworthy, that thinks Garlond deserves better. 

Nero is entertaining the idea of downing a sixth little fruity drink when he feels a pair of warm hands on his shoulder, steering him away from the table. “Enough of that,” Garlond laughs. It’s the same laugh he’d had when talking to the others, the cute, genuine laugh. It makes Nero’s face feel hot. “You’d drink the whole table if left alone for too long.”

“You’re the one who left me alone,” Nero frowns. “And after you begged me to come, too.”

Garlond gives him an apologetic look. He still has one hand on Nero’s shoulder, and it is still very warm. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to. It’s hard to keep track of anything when you’ve got that many people trying to get your attention.”

“Oh look at you, Mister Popular,” Nero makes some sort of gesture with his hands, then goes on in a poor mimic of Garlond’s voice, “I’m Cid Garlond and I’m super handsome and smart and everyone likes me.”

Garlond stifles a laugh, blush turning his cheeks rosy. “Is that how you think I sound?” He gently elbows Nero in the side. 

Whoops. That might have been a little obvious. Maybe Nero should have stuck with just two drinks. “Oh, silly me, I promised Jessie I wouldn’t talk.” He closes his mouth and pointedly looks away. This just makes Cid… er, Garlond laugh again. 

“That’s not what she meant and you know it,” Garlond says, grinning. “But more importantly, if I’m super handsome and smart and everyone likes me, does that  _ everyone _ include you?”

Oh, he’s  _ good _ . Nero might actually have to watch what he’s saying, especially in public. And  _ especially _ when he’s had a little much to drink. Just how much alcohol was in those anyway? And why bother spiking them if nobody drinks them in the first place?? Is this what rich people do?

“That was a wonderful speech you gave earlier, Mr. Garlond,” comes a voice from behind them. Normally Nero wouldn’t be startled by trivial things like someone abruptly accosting them, but in his current state, it sort of does make his heart jump into his throat. Particularly since they’d just been openly discussing Nero potentially thinking Cid… Godsdammit. Potentially thinking  _ Garlond _ is smart and handsome and liking him… Was this room always this warm?

“Thank you, Ms. Namo.” Garlond turns to address the speaker, a lalafellin girl currently riding the enormous bicep of a rather large hyur man. Nero recognizes her. Nanamo Ul Namo, a wealthy heiress who would see her money used to benefit society. 

“I’m quite fond of the phrase you used,” the girl goes on, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Freedom through technology… How thought provoking and inspiring!”

Nero has half a mind to interject and inform her that he helped Garlond workshop it the night before, when Garlond belatedly remembered his invitation included the request for a small, succinct introduction of his company. But then he recalls Jessie forbidding him to speak to anyone, and Namo is quite rich. All the more reason to keep quiet, he supposes.

Except that Garlond is looking at him knowingly, an affectionate smile on his lips that makes Nero wish they weren’t at a fancy convention surrounded by fancy, proprietous people. He would’ve very much liked to lean down and kiss that smile.

“It was a joint effort,” Garlond tells Namo, gesturing to Nero, who immediately stiffens at being brought into the conversation. “My b-” Garlond stops abruptly, makes a face, then tries again. Nero’s brows furrow, and he wonders at the odd slip up. “My… friend and colleague, Nero Scaeva. He is as much a driving force at Garlond Tech as I am. I doubt we’d be half as successful without him.”

Now Nero blushes. He certainly hadn’t expected Garlond to praise him so readily. And in front of strangers, no less! If Nero were less tipsy, he would have had some quip prepared, he’s sure. But the fact that Garlond considers him so vital to the company… He’s flattered to say the least.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Scaeva,” Namo says, gracing him with an elegant smile, which she turns to Garlond after a moment. “We can appreciate a leader who respects and acknowledges the efforts and contributions of his colleagues. Can’t we, Raubahn.”

It wasn’t a question, but the hyur carrying her laughs and nods. “Indeed we can, Miss Nanamo.” 

“Yes,” Namo nods as well, looking quite pleased with herself. “Shall we collaborate, then, Mr. Garlond?” The Raubahn fellow procures a business card which he hands to Namo, who in turn delicately holds it out to Garlond. “I would very much like to see what Garlond Tech has to offer.”

“We appreciate your interest, Ms. Namo,” Garlond says, smiling and bowing his head as he accepts the card. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

After the pair have left, Nero pokes Garlond’s cheek with one finger. “Jessie will be so proud of us,” he says, quite seriously, despite Garlond snorting. “A sponsor! And all it took was one speech and five fruity drinks-”

“Five??” Garlond gives him an exasperated look. “... We’d better not tell her that part.”


	17. and finally, honesty

It honestly is a wonder they make it back to Garlond’s house in one piece. Nero had somehow forgotten that they’d driven to convention on his motorbike. He’s definitely not one to drive under the influence, which left Garlond in charge of getting them home. He didn’t struggle too much, thankfully, with Nero sitting behind and giving (slightly tipsy) instructions, lanky arms wrapped tightly around Garlond’s well-built torso (he really does feel amazing, doesn’t he, with all those… sexy taut muscles). 

When they reach Garlond’s bedroom, Nero gives in to impulse, grabs Garlond by the lapels of his jacket, and leans down to finally kiss him. He quickly loses his balance, though, and they clumsily topple onto Garlond’s bed. Garlond laughs. “How many drinks did you really have?” he asks as he reaches up and hooks his arms around Nero’s neck. 

Nero pouts. “Five,” he says. Between kisses, he goes on, “I’m offended you’d think I’d lie about it.”

Garlond laughs again. “I suppose that was a little unfair. Will you ever forgive me?” 

“... Maybe,” Nero can’t keep pouting when Garlond is kissing him so earnestly. It’s too cute, really, and he’s forced to acquiesce quickly in order to deepen the kiss. He lets his hands wander a bit, unbuttoning the first couple buttons of Garlond’s jacket. “Did I mention yet how good this suit looks on you?”

Fond amusement seeps into Garlond’s chuckle this time. “Yes, you did,” he says, voice a bit breathy. “Twice. Before we left for the convention, and after we first arrived.”

_ Damn _ . Blush lightly dusts his face, but he refuses to let it get to him. “I bet it would look good off of you, as well.”

At that, Garlond stops kissing him. Nero immediately regrets what he’d just said, but when he draws back to apologize and play it off, he sees Garlond’s conflicted expression. He opens and closes his mouth, trying to decide if he should attempt to explain or wait for Garlond to speak. 

“... Nero,” Garlond says after a brief pause. The hint of seriousness in his tone makes Nero’s heart throb uncomfortably in his chest. “... What are we?”

“Um,” Nero replies ineloquently. “... Huh?”

Garlond sighs, somewhat exasperated. He pulls himself out from under Nero and sits up, eyes searching Nero’s face. A pause. Then he sighs again, gaze softening. He gently raises a hand, fingers brushing the almost fully healed bruise on Nero’s cheek. “I want honesty, Nero. I want… to talk. About this. About us.”

Nero feels himself deflate a little. Taking a deep breath, he settles himself beside Garlond, averting his gaze. “Honesty, huh?” he repeats. His face burns as he tries, despite himself, to oblige the request. He’s not used to it. He’s only ever really done his best to ignore his feelings. Except for lately, that is. But actions and talking are two different things, and it had never been easy for Nero to openly say what he means. Least of all when it relates to himself. 

Once he starts, though, it’s like the flood crashing over a broken dam. “I punched Baelsar because he wanted you to go back and work him for him again,” Nero says. Garlond’s eyes widen significantly, but before he has a chance to respond, Nero continues, “I just got so angry because he treated you like a tool. He was such a greedy, manipulative bastard. And he never once tried to see you as a person, even when you’d clearly left on such bad terms. I… I wanted to protect you. I still do. Because…” He hesitates and grits his teeth. Is it time? Is it finally the moment where he gives voice to the feelings that had festered inside him since he first met Cid Garlond all those years ago?

“Because?” Garlond asks softly.

Nero lets out a slow exhale and lifts his gaze to meet Garlond’s. “Because I can’t stand how selfless you are. Because you barely know how to take care of your own needs but will so readily stick your neck out for everyone else. Because you’re so bloody brilliant yet struggle with basic comprehension skills. Because…” Garlond’s face has grown gradually redder with each word that leaves Nero’s mouth. “Because I’m in love with you. And have been, ever since the day we met.”

Yes, Garlond’s face is quite red now. It makes Nero want desperately to kiss him again, but he finds restraint this time. 

Apparently, though, he just can’t shut up now that he’s started talking. “I tried so hard to make myself stop caring. I blamed it on rivalry, jealousy, any petty conflict I could come up with. But you were still such a beacon of light and goodness back then. You still are. I… I thought I could never deserve you.” Is it the alcohol talking? He doesn’t feel particularly tipsy anymore but he doesn’t think his tongue would move so freely if not for outside influence.

“Oh, Nero…” Garlond finally speaks, voice softer than ever. He cups both of Nero’s cheeks and kisses him now, gentle and full of so much affection that Nero feels winded. “... I sort of figured there was a layer of insecurity buried under all that self praise.” He draws back, smiling ruefully. “I think that’s why I decided to bring you with me. It felt like you stayed with Gaius to punish yourself. It felt like I was abandoning you to suffer on your own. And I didn’t think you deserved it. In essence, I thought you were the one who deserved better. What do you have to say to that?”

Nero frowns. His cheeks are quite warm where Garlond’s hands still linger, and Garlond had taken to stroking Nero’s skin with his thumbs, an intimate gesture that makes Nero feel like melting. “... I don’t know,” he admits, a bit sheepish. “I don’t understand why you’d want to help me. It’s not like I really did anything worth your care.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Garlond shakes his head, a tender smile on his lips. “It was you who encouraged me to be the best engineer I can be. Rivalry or not, I always valued your unique insight. And that aside, having someone to go toe and toe with was a reason to never give up on trying to improve. I never disliked you, Nero, nor thought badly of you.”

“... Past tense,” Nero mumbles. He rather wishes he could get himself to stop blushing, but it is what it is. When Garlond gives him a questioning look, he elaborates, “You used past tense. You said you never thought badly of me. But what do you think now, in the present?”

For a few seconds, Garlond is quiet, flustered. Soon, though, he’s smiling again, and gods, Nero really does love that smile. “I think you’re a silly, eccentric man who could stand to be honest more often. I think you’re kind of an asshole,” at that Nero pouts, “but, in your own way, you’re also one of the nicest people I know. I love being with you, and I think living together has just made me more aware of how much I enjoy your company.” He leans in and gently kisses Nero again, and Nero’s heart flutters in his chest. 

“More concise, please,” Nero mumbles, and blushes more brightly when Garlond laughs.

“I’m trying to say I’m in love with you, too,” Garlond says. Nero can feel that smile against his lips, and the sensation is  _ heavenly _ . “It took me a long time to figure it out, but I know for certain now. I want this. I want... you.”

Is Nero dreaming? Had he actually drunk himself into a stupor at the convention? Or is he supposed to believe this is really happening? 

Cid Garlond reciprocates.

Even when he’d entertained the possibility, even when all the signs pointed that way, it feels so markedly different to hear those very words from him. 

Happy, Nero belatedly recognized. He’s absurdly, irreconcilably  _ happy _ , and it takes all of his effort not to throw his arms around Garlond and start crying. That’s definitely the alcohol, though, since Nero doesn’t cry. 

All he can do is kiss Garlond, with as much fervor as he can manage. 

When he feels as though he has a semblance of composure, he draws back and smirks at Garlond. “So… it’s official, then.”

Garlond raises one eyebrow at him. “I’d like to think so, yes.” 

“What should I call you now?” Nero fiddles with the buttons of Garlond’s jacket, undoing a few more of them. “Darling? Dearest?”

With narrowed eyes and rosy cheeks, Garlond scrutinizes him for a moment. “... Just… call me Cid.”

The smirk vanishes off of Nero’s face. Call him… Cid? Uh oh. It had infiltrated his thoughts earlier at the convention, but that was an accident. To purposefully call him by his first name… Nero swallows thickly. 

“.... C… Ci...” He makes an attempt. Then hastily buries his face in Cid’s neck when Cid releases a heart laugh. “Rude,” he grumbles.

“I’m sorry,” Cid says, though he’s still chuckling when Nero raises his head again. “It’s just... I’m not used to seeing you get flustered. It’s cute. You’re cute.”

Nero frowns exaggeratedly, if only to disguise the fact that his face had, if possible, grown even redder. “I’m not cute. I’m devilishly handsome. Rugged charms, remember?”

His choice of words only seems to make things worse, Cid’s grin turning smug. “I knew it! You  _ were _ talking about yourself, not the Red Baron.”

Godsdammit. Nero should really just shut his mouth, shouldn’t he. Maybe Jessie was right and he just… shouldn’t talk.

… Nah.

He does have an excuse though, when he’s busy kissing Cid. 


	18. wrapping it up

“What’s this?” Nero asks over breakfast the next morning when Cid places a single key on the table. 

“Use your eyes,” Cid tells him, rolling his own. 

Nero does. And his hands, too. He picks up the key and turns it over between his fingers. “... When did you find the time to make a duplicate?” Cid doesn’t answer for a moment, his cheeks going pink. Nero’s brows furrow. “Don’t… don’t tell me you actually had it from day one… Did you?”

“Well…” Cid huffs and uses a mouthful of eggs to buy some time before responding. “I had it made just in case. I wasn’t sure how long you’d be staying. If it ended up being something long term, I figured it’d be useful. And I was right, wasn’t I? About this being long term, I mean.”

Nero blinks at him, then nods. “Yeah. Definitely. As long as it gets. And speaking of that,” he points toward Cid over the table, “Rent. I’m contributing now. Like a proper boyfriend. So… give me your bank account number so I can link it to mine.”

At that, Cid chuckles. “A proper boyfriend.” The fondness in his voice makes Nero blush, and he busies himself with eating to cover up that fact. 

After they finish their food, they relocate to Cid’s couch, where much cuddling ensues (and Cid puts Bob Ross on in the background while they set about linking their bank accounts). 

Nero, arms around Cid’s waist, says, “Can’t believe you got a key made the first day I stayed here.”

Cid snorts and gives him a look. “Well, technically it was the second, though I suppose it still sort of counts as the first. You showed up so late into the evening, that hardly counts as a day.”

“But you were already hooked, weren’t you,” Nero teases, poking Cid’s sides with his fingers. Cid squirms but doesn’t actually try to get away. “To think, all it took was cuddling in bed to really get the relationship going.”

A few seconds pass, and Cid’s eyes gradually narrow. He shifts in Nero’s lap to turn round and scrutinize him. “The way you say it, I’d almost think you were awake.” 

Oops. Nero forgot he’d been pretending to be asleep for the first few times they’d cuddled. He stiffens and quickly looks away, feigning innocence, but it’s too late. Cid grabs him by the collar of his shirt and tugs hard enough that Nero loses his balance and collapses sideways. And then Cid hovers over him, and Nero can’t help but blush.

“It’s just… It was…” Nero futilely attempts to explain. He shrinks as Cid quirks a brow at him. “I didn’t know what to do, and…”

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Cid leans down and silences him with a hard kiss. Nero melts a bit, and reaches up to wrap his arms around Cid, pulling his body back against him. “You’re completely ridiculous,” Cid grumbles, but he keeps kissing Nero, each one becoming more languid and leaving Nero rather breathless. 

“Says the one who probably never actually planned to get a bed for the guest room even after saying he would,” Nero responds, smirking against Cid’s lips. 

“As if you can talk,” Cid counters. “I’d wager you completely forgot to look for a new apartment.”

Nero pouts, which makes Cid chuckle. “Caught red-handed. Can you blame me, though? Your bed is just so bloody comfortable.”

“The bed, huh?” Cid draws back, eyeing him with a mix of amusement and indignation. A moment passes and he shakes his head, and then leans in to resume kissing Nero, who meets him eagerly halfway. “I’d call you ridiculous again, but I don’t think I’d mean it this time.”

“Oh?” Nero murmurs, and he can’t help smirking again. “Why? Because you love me?”

Cid smiles. Even without being able to see it, Nero can feel the warmth and affection in it. Once again, he’s left feeling breathless. 

“... Yeah,” Cid says softly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you made it to the end, thank you so much for reading!   
> being almost a month in the making, i can't say it doesn't feel good to finally post this. i hope it was fun to read!  
> (i might make future edits to notes if i remember anything i meant to comment on but for now, it's complete.)


End file.
